Ghosts
by PersephoneGhost
Summary: It was a remarkably cold day the day Adam Parrish had died. On the contrary, it had been an unremarkably hot day when Ronan Lynch had decided to become a ghost hunter. Adam x Ronan
1. The Beginning

It was a remarkably cold day the day Adam Parrish had died. On the contrary, it had been an unremarkably hot day when Ronan Lynch had decided to become a ghost hunter.

It was the cold that finished Adam off. He had gotten up early to help his father with some cars, joints protesting and bruises aching as he pulled clothes on his frail frame. His head felt heavy, sleepy, but not in any natural way. It was exhaustion, mental and physical. It was the winter holidays, and when he wasn't working one of his many jobs, he was forced to work for free to try and appease his ill-tempered father.

Adam silently left the house to avoid waking his father up as he went to his first job of the day. Despite the thick snow and hail, Adam knew that staying home would leave him in a worse condition than the cold ever could. Skipping work simply wasn't an option. So, he pulled his bike out from behind the trailer, giving it a quick check over for issues before riding off.

Adam had tried to layer up with his school jacket over his work uniform, but without a proper coat, he was still shaking and losing colour in his skin. His biking got slower and slower, before it fell to the side. The ground, pressed against Adam's numb cheek, felt alive, beating with an ancient energy.

'Do you wish to die?' A soft-spoken voice asked him. It seemed to infect the ear pressed to the cold ground, filling it with something that he guessed was honey, or something equally thick and gooey. 'If you wish, your agreed, unpredicted death could give us life!'. The voice sounded very enthusiastic about this concept. All Adam knew was that he felt tired, too tired to get up, too tired to... live, especially like he did, in such fear. He realised that he could finally do some good, giving whatever this was life. His throat felt too numb to answer, but the voice seemed to pick up on his thoughts, a gleeful giggle rushing through him.

That was the last thing Adam remembered before he found himself face-to-face with his blue corpse.

Ronan's involvement in the ghost world didn't happen for another five months and twenty days. It was late July, so the hot day wasn't unusual in any way. He had been sitting at a table at Nino's with Gansey, his best friend (who was tormented with his other nickname, Dick), and Blue, Gansey's... what was she? Girlfriend seemed the obvious answer, but it didn't seem right. Their stolen glances suggested that their relationship wasn't something they had delved into, likely out of fear.

"Ronan?" Blue waved a spoon in front of his face bravely, likely because Gansey sat between them. Ronan bared his teeth at her, slouching back a little further on the tattered seats. It was obvious that he had missed part of the conversation, although Gansey seemed more than pleased to repeat himself.

"Ghosts, Ronan! I found some people who claim that their energy readings correspond with spiritual activity. Other people have said that they saw some!" Gansey's eyes were bright with excitement, something Ronan had seen before the beginning of Gansey's next quest for a meaning for his life. It made Gansey happy, though, and just like all of his ideas, Ronan eventually agreed. Ghosts weren't his area of expertise- he doubted he could beat up ghosts- but adventures with Gansey and Blue certainly were.

Gansey, beaming, had pulled out a map. It had faded in the creases, proving that it had been folded and unfolded numerous times, but that wasn't what made Ronan stare at it. The bright dots of colour were. Red dots scattered lazily, creating a thick line through Henrietta, while purple dots made a firm, clear line in between the red dots. Finally, a single black dot. Ronan leant in, curious, and noticed the black dot was located not too far from where they were. Close to being spooked, Ronan calmly rested his elbows on the table, listening as Gansey launched into an explanation. He pointed out the red dots, explaining that they were energy readings that had spiked, and that the purple dots were ghost sightings.

"Can you see? There's a correlation between energy readings and sightings! This gives us a good chance of finding a ghost if we just-"

"And the black dot?" Ronan interupted Gansey's excited ramblings with his simple question. He easily knew that Gansey could talk about those dumb dots for hours without even touching upon the black one, and curiosity had begun to gnaw at his mind. Gansey's eyes dropped to the dot, eyebrows knitted together. Blue opened her mouth to speak, to explain where Gansey was worriedly silent.

Then it began to spread. Ink bled outwards on the paper, weeping down, ruining the dots. It was like a thick plague that clung to the patterns and drowned all colour in its wake.

"That, Ronan, is where a body was found. It's been dead for months, but it hasn't decayed," Blue's thick voice spoke, in shock at the disintergrated paper that crumpled on the table.

"Then that's where we're going."


	2. Death in sleeping

The engine on the Pig rattled and coughed in protest at being forced to drive in such heat, but Gansey effortless ignored it, used to the temper of the car. He had sunglasses on, obnoxiously expensive ones, although the well-used marks on them stopped Blue from making a comment. Instead, she lounged in the passenger seat. Although her toes were being fried to a crisp, she felt smug that she had called shotgun.

Ronan wasn't so smug. Even so, he stretched out on the back seat, staring outside at the too-bright scenery. It was becoming clear that they weren't near their usually side of town. The streets were dirtier and the scenery was dustier. Ronan couldn't imagine the people who lived here sitting at Nino's, laughing under too-bright lights. They'd be washed out until they were merely ghosts. A woman was walking along the path beside them, and Blue started slightly at the sight of her. She placed a startled hand on Gansey's, which clutched the gearstick, and he caused the car to come to a jittery halt. The Pig didn't like it much, not that Blue noticed as she lept out.

"Persephone?" She almost sounded confused as she approached the woman. Ronan studied her catiously, taking in... all of her. She was a lot to take in, with her cloud of hair and frothy dress (which was a beautifully hideous neon green with bees on), dark eyes mirroring the world around her. Her head turned to see Blue, a hardly-there smile forming as she saw her friend's daughter.

" Blue! Oh, hello, whatever are you doing here?" Persephone blinked at Blue in shock.

"I'm helping Gansey ghost-hunt. I left a note."

"Oh. So you did," came the faint reply. It was like the woman wasn't actually there. Gansey smiled a little at how casual Blue was in leaving a note about something so not casual, having to catch himself before he looked too dopey.

" You never answered me," Blue said after a short, awkward pause. Persephone lit up at that, smiling.

"I didn't? Oh! I'm following the Ley Line! Maura said I had to take a break from my thesis so... this seemed fun!" Her hair was easily swung about by the vague wind, her dress following too. It was like she was from another planet, where everything was windier.

Blue took this explanation, though, nodding with a sigh. She bid Persephone goodbye- after making sure her phone was charged, just in case- and got back in the Pig. They drove again, the silence markedly tense until Blue broke it all of a sudden.

"I don't know why she was... something's happening. Is it the ghost?" She spoke suddenly, her words tumbling out with the force of a hard gust of wind.

"Maybe... look, we can do this, Jane. It's okay," Gansey reassured her. Despite her proclaimed hatred of the nickname, Blue found herself smiling slightly, feeling better than before.

Ronan wanted to barf. He thought ghost hunting would involve more blood and less... romance.

Ironic.

Soon, the faded shops were left behind as the Pig rattled along the dusty roads. Gansey slowly came to a stop alongside the road. In the distance, there was a hint of a trailer park. Just ahead of the car, bright yellow tape was strung up, a tent on top of the ground, presumingly to stop anyone seeing. Thanks to the lack of interest and shits given- so different to the diligence from where Gansey grew up- the body was simply covered as a 'temporary option'. It worked out well for the newby ghost-hunters though.

As soon as the Pig reluctantly fell silent, the trio climbed out, Ronan pressing his knees into the drivers seat until Gansey got out so Ronan could. The car was locked and they all walked over to where the tent was hastily pegged to the dry grass. A gust of sharp, cold wind stabbed into their skins like daggers, unusual in the sweltering summer day. Looks were exchanged, before they, one by one, ducked under the tape. Gansey held it up for Blue. Ronan didn't get such a courtesy, and he was tempted to rip it down. Once in the little area, Gansey intook a deep breath for courage, and pulled the tent flap open.

The first thing they noticed was the cold. It was like winter again, the ice invading them, crawling under their skins.

The second thing they noticed was the body. It looked asleep almost, curled up in a shabby school jacket, legs stuck in a bicycle position. He had dusty hair that matched the ground he lay on, and long eyelashes that spread across his peachy skin. He seemed far too alive for a corpse. It was as if he would awaken any moment, limbs stretching, climb on the cycle that lay a few feet away, and leave. Yet, he didn't, he lay there with his pink skin and no heartbeat and impossibly laid there, dead.

Gansey let out a long, low whistle. " He looks... alive," he said what was on everyones minds without even thinking. Part of him wanted to touch him, but it felt wrong. So, Ronan did it. He knelt beside the body, and carefully moved his hand so it was palm-up. Gansey was almost shocked with how respectful Ronan was acting as he pressed two fingers against his milky wrist. Nothing.

"Definitely dead," Ronan said as he stood back up. He wanted to do something, it felt wrong letting the boy lay there like that.

"So, his ghost, how would we..." Blue hesitated, looking at the body. She decided to not count that as her first dead body as he looked too asleep.

"We... we ask?" Gansey suggested shakily, but Ronan set a hand on his elbow.

"We don't fuck about with spirits. Demons. Whatever. We do it properly, yeah? Maybe we should... practise on a less mysterious ghost before trying this one?" However much Ronan hated putting stuff like this off- stuff that ate at his mind- he knew how easily this could go wrong.

Blue already was leaving.

"We gotta get out of here. It's creeping me out. Look, I found another lead, a more docile ghost. We can get his advice?" She suggested to placate the slightly upset Ronan, hopping from one foot to the other. Gansey nodded in agreement with her, hurrying back to the car. Death had interested him, especially death so close to sleep, but he knew that advice was certainly the logical way to go about it.

Ronan peeled his jacket off, a rough black one, and oh-so-gently laid it over Adam, just under his neck. Although it was hot, he looked so cold, he felt it was right to do something. He almost covered his face but every instinct in his body screamed against it.

He went back out to get in the car with the pair in the front. Ronan found himself thinking about that sleeping corpse the entire ride back, not even realising when Blue did a less than flattering impression of him. Gansey was worried, never having seen his friend so undone, not since Niall.

Ronan's thoughts were just thoughts, until he fell asleep that night.


End file.
